Nobody, Not Even the Ocean
by Pisce
Summary: Pisce is a former slave to a Tevinter Magister. Saved by Hawke and her companions then mysteriously disappearing, what trouble will she stir up when she shows up in Kirkwall many months later? Fenris/OC, F!Hawke/Merril. Cover art by me.


AN: Good day, lovely people! I welcome you to my first fanfiction about the Dragon Age universe! I will try to update this as regularly as I can, and I hope you all enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in this except for original ones. Fenris, Hawke, Anders, and the others are property of BioWare.

* * *

Fenris

* * *

I thought I was done with the magisters after I had killed Danarius, but oh, how I was wrong. We were camping along the Wounded Coast, close to the sea, when Hawke stood up, listening to the brush around us. She whipped out her sword and ducked, just as a fireball was sent flying her way. We all jumped up, and by all I mean me, Anders, and Varric, and readied our weapons. From behind a nearby rock wall stepped out an unmistakable Tevinter Magister. He was an old, balding man with a groomed beard, flanked by many guards. But what really angered me, flared up the hatred in my heart, was the slave he held chained on a leash. She was sickly looking, a mist of grey painted onto her dark, almost ebony skin, which was littered with scars. Her bluish black hair was matted and down, covering up most of her face. I was able to catch a glimpse of hazy, ocean blue eyes. All she wore was a tattered dress, barely covering up her small clothes.

"Ah, you must be Danrius's slave, Fenris." The magister spoke.

"I am a slave no longer, filth, and just what are you doing here?" I asked with a strained tone, just barely keeping the lyrium writhing under my skin at bay. My knuckles must've been white under my gauntlets I was gripping the hilt of my sword so hard.

"Danarius was my cousin, my friend! And you killed him! Now, my pet, kill them all!" He let go of the chain, and we were set upon by the slave girl. Her nails were filed to points as were her teeth, and she gripped the leash she was held by and lassoed it around my ankle before i could react, tripping me up. She lunged at me, but was kicked away by Hawke. The other slavers attacked, and it was a slaughter. At the very end of the battle, after I had severed the magisters head, I slowly walked over to the slave, who was fatally wounded and dragging herself towards the sea. I honestly felt a little guilty, that...could've been me, after all. I went to end it, to put her out of her misery, when she looked up at me with pleading eyes that burned into my very soul, and I found myself unable to. I left with Hawke and the others, looking back only to see the slave drowning herself in the shallow waters of the coast. It was...a sad day.

* * *

Many months later, I had all but forgotten about that day, it was only a lingering, fading memory in the back of my mind now. As I walked into The Hanged Man for our weekly game of Wicked Grace, a figure at the bar caught my eye. Her back was to me, clad in black leather armour with spiked pauldrons and pirate boots, black hood pulled up. As I walked to the table where Varric and the others waited, she turned to look at us. A tumble of wavy, jet black hair was sideswept across her brow, piercing and clear ocean blue eyes gazing at me before she quickly looked away, going back to her ale. Hawke looked at me, a stare saying that she knew what was going on.

"How do you think she survived? I saw her drag herself into the ocean…" I asked quietly, earning confused looks from everyone but Varric and Anders.

"What do you mean, sweetie?" Isabella asked as she stealthily hid a card in her bosom.

"That girl over there, she was...a slave ordered to kill us, and we saw her drown herself after being fatally wounded. Well, she must be quite the resilient one." Hawke joked, always being the jester of the group. Hawke was, well, a beautiful woman. She had fair skin, a rosy tint to her cheeks, and rich, auburn hair that that was tied back into a bun, two strands hanging down in her face. Her eyes were a bright, verdant green and her lips were naturally red. I had once upon a time been attracted to her, until I realized she had wanted me as nothing more than a friend. It was then I caught her kissing that, ugh, blood mage, in her mansion. It disgusted me, but whatever makes her happy, I suppose.

"She must-" Varric started, before a dagger slammed down next to his hand as we all directed our attention to the irritated face of the woman.

"Talking about a girl behind her back isn't very nice, you know." She purred, fangs glinting in the candlelight. She was actually quite nice looking, with high cheekbones and full lips. Her eyes were almond shaped and had a piercing gaze that I could not help but hold for a few moments.

"What's it to you? You a mage hater like this one?" Anders motioned towards me, and I sneered at him.

"Mages are the filth of this world. Magic is a curse on the land and all it leads to is ruin." She snarled with her deep, smooth voice. Anders flinched back, and it gave me time to notice the bandages wrapped around her neck. Strange, she didn't seem to be injured there… Her gaze was upon him, mesmerizing and terrifying, before Hawke finally feigned a cough. She snapped her head up to look at her.

"Well, eheh, hello there, mind telling us your name? Or should we refer to you as Female Fenris?" She laughed, and I grunted. The womans eyes flickered to mine before returning to hold Hawkes somewhat threatening gaze.

"Pisce...My name is Pisce." She said warily, ripping her knife up from the table and sticking it back in her belt. "Yours?" She asked, crossing her arms.

"I'm Hawke, this is Anders, Varric, Merrill, Isabela, and Fenris." She said, motioning to each of us, respectively. "Care to join us for a game of Wicked Grace?"

"She's a former slave, how do you expect her to know how to play?" Anders muttered, and she growled at him, something I was just about to do.

"Of course I would like to play, I wasn't always a slave you know." She picked up the cards Varric dealt her and settled herself between Isabela and I.

"Oh really? Well, regale us of your life before slavery." Anders asked sarcastically. She bit her lip, and I swear I could see the tiny pinpricks of tear in the corners of her eyes before she blinked.

"I lived in Rivain with my family, we lived...by the sea. I was captured by Tevinters sailing home when I was just 14. That was 12 years ago. Instead of being a sex slave or a servant, I proved myself as a fighter. I was used in slave fights, stripped naked and forced to kill slaves twice my size with my bare hands. I'm quite lucky that I'm very strong." she smirked. "I suppose I should thank you for beating me within an inch of my life then letting me live. My master is dead, I am a free woman, I suppose." She took a swig of the swill that they call ale here, and began playing. Surprisingly, she was winning until Isabela cleaned us all out of all our coin.

"Hey! I saw you slip that card down there!" Anders complained.

"Then come and get it~" She smirked, knowing that he would never reach in between her thighs to retrieve said card. I sighed. Anders was extremely annoying, and I hated him. One day he was going to succumb to being abomination, spirit or not.

Pisce could hold her ail quite well, and was barely tipsy after 3 mugs of ale when she finally decided to fold. "I am going to bed. Good night." She got up to leave, before Hawke called out to her. She raised an eyebrow.

"I've got a proposition for you, Pisce. I don't know where you're getting the coin to stay in this lovely hovel but why don't you come work for me? You look like a skilled young woman to have survived as a fighter all those years." Hawke smirked, turning up the charm. Pisce had a light blush on her cheeks and frowned.

"I will...consider it." With that, she disappeared around the corner.

"Whatta girl, eh Fenris? Hates mages, broody, and a great ass to boot." Varric chuckled, earning a low growl from me. They eventually dispersed to their respective homes, allowing Hawke and I to walk back to Hightown together.

"She's quite pretty, isn't she?" Hawke asked in that cheeky tone of hers.

"I suppose." He mumbled. To be honest, something seemed, off about her. But, those were thoughts for when he wasn't dead tired. They parted ways, and as Fenris crawled into bed that night, he was thankfully not plagued by thoughts of Pisce.


End file.
